The Nightmare King
by Cheesecake44
Summary: Short stories featuring Pitch Black, the Boogeyman. This will mix and match both the movie and the book versions.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't know if this was Dreamworks intention with this scene but I saw someone write about this and I thought it sounded interesting. It was either this or Pitch was pissed enough to scare the nightmare for no reason other than his own bad mood.**

**Enjoy.**

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**Fear**

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_"They're_ collecting the teeth?!" Pitch disbelievingly half turned to the messenger but was cut short from receiving any more information as the small fairies all twittered, excitedly hopeful at the news, and turned to share the joyfulness with their sisters.

"Shut up or I'll stuff a pillow with you!" Pitch snarled at them, making them settle down a little, he looked back down from the chirping fairies to the floor with an unhappy frown, insecurity reaching up to niggle in his thoughts.

They're were stopping children from not believing! This wasn't supposed to happen!

Pitch ground his teeth together in a brief grimace before glancing at the approaching nightmare who was sniffing curiously at him. He looked back at the creature and made such a vicious snarl in its direction that it backed off immediately with an alarmed noise.

He couldn't afford to show any insecurity now, his nightmares could pick fear out of any negativity, even he was not immune to that.

Pitch lifted a hand, transforming the mare back into swirling dream sand and beckoned it towards him, better to be safe than sorry to make sure it didn't alert any of the others to their master smelling of mild fear.

The boogeyman could adapt easily enough.

"Fine, have your last hurrah," Pitch spoke, his voice now calm and calculated. "For tomorrow all your pathetic scrambling will be for nothing."

He would not fail.

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**Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**This is showing Pitch's little experiments with turning dreams into nightmares and taking a little bit of each dark sand for his own each time.**

**Enjoy.**

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**Nightmarish Experiments**

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A slimmer of dream sand trickled down through the window and immediately formed a golden halo above the boys head, lazily circling as though it wasn't sure what the boy was dreaming.

Pitch stood from where he had perched at the boys desk and came closer, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the sand. He had been watching for a good few years now, seeing how he could perfect this trick of nightmares.

Simply touching a good dream, sometimes it goes the opposite of what that dream was or it would just make that dream horrible but still have that situation for example; a boy playing football and getting a goal and being cheered on by his peers would change to his friends making fun or yelling at him as he failed to score a goal.

Or if Pitch was in a particularly bad mood, he found, it influenced the dream more, making it darker and scarier and was usually straight out of the child's subconscious and showed what their worst fear was.

It was all so very interesting to Pitch and he loved to experiment.

The child in front of him now was one of his guinea pigs, so to speak, he had a few children of different ages all over the world, separated just in case the Sandman caught on. This child was the second oldest of the test subjects; at fourteen.

His dreams were usually of playing with friends, football or talking or playing tag etc.

Quite a boring child, Pitch usually thought.

Firstly Pitch would watch the dream take shape into whatever it was the children loved, then he would touch the sand and turn the wonderful dream into a nightmare whilst taking some sand for his own at the same time.

It was a tedious and lengthy process but it would be worth it and Pitch could certainly be patient.

The sand shifted into a small version of the boy stood alone with a girl walking towards him, presumably for another dull game of tag, and so Pitch reached out to touch the dream but stopped short at the sudden escalation of the child's dream.

Pitch smiled, almost sarcastically at the sight of the two child sand figures sharing a simple kiss and a hug.

"How sweet," Pitch cooed at it. "I wonder how this will turn out..."

His smile got wider in an open and mischievous grin as he once again reached out to the sand but was stopped again, his expression one of unsure surprise.

Well he supposed it was usual, he was fourteen after all, children grow so fast these days.

For a moment the Nightmare King wavered, hesitating, not knowing whether to continue with his work or leave the uncomfortable situation of watching a teenagers first wet dream.

Pitch glanced to the floor, away from the image, to think for a second.

"Why not?" Pitch asked himself, looking back to the boy with a grin. "I hope you won't be too traumatised by a nightmare version of this dream."

Pitch did more than merely poked the dream and waved his hand straight through it, distorting the picture into quite a dark and gruesome image, making the boy whimper and struggle in his sheets as the dream girl pinned him down, her face now demonic as she leaned down to him.

"Oooh dear," Pitch bit his lip as he cheekily smiled. "Now that's disturbing."

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**Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Enjoy.**

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**Alone**

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Pitch sat, slumped down like a sulking child on a broken dining chair across from his globe. He had first been smirking at the idea that one day there will be no more lights of children who believe but slowly his pessimistic thoughts had wheedled him down to the fact that his plan hadn't lifted off the ground yet.

He hadn't even gotten much of the Sandman's sand yet and that was a crucial part of the scheme.

Nowhere near enough sand.

Pitch huffed and nudged some debris near his foot, hard enough to send it skittering down the stairs on his right. He listened to the stone echoing throughout his home and realised how deafening the silence was after the rocks descent had stopped.

The stillness stretched on...

Pitch's face fell, his eyes now downward though he stared at nothing, his expression one of sad loneliness.

The Boogeyman; Nightmare King, Pitch Black was lonely and tired of being alone and hated for what he was.

Pitch closed his eyes, his hand coming to prop his forehead up as he leaned on it with a sigh, when would feeling like this stop?

Looks like today is going to be a bad day...


	4. Chapter 4

**Enjoy.**

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**There is only one King of Nightmares...**

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A slight dark form was the only movement that gave away the presence of the Nightmare King as he glided through a forest at two am on the outskirts of a small village somewhere in Croatia, he had grown bored of his home and had left in search of some much needed fear.

He was very close now to kick start his plan of ridding the world of the believers and in doing so, the Guardians.

From the mere thought of it Pitch cracked a toothy smile as he strolled down a small worn dirt path that led to the main road, he glanced up at the veiled moon and stars underneath a canopy of trees that hid him in shadows.

Good, he didn't feel like sneaking around from his old friend in the Moon today. Besides this wasn't for work gaining more sand or nightmares, this was for pleasure of the fearful kind, a small pick-me-up.

There was no sound, movement or hint of fear of any kind that alerted Pitch to the fact that he was suddenly no longer alone; it was more of a sense that one would hone over the years when they weren't particularly well liked by anyone else. Sometimes he needed to be careful.

It surprised the Boogeyman that someone had snuck up on him and he turned quickly to face this silent person; sneer in place and retort on his lips, which died before it could fly free when he saw who it was. Another spirit of course from the look of it; tall, pale face with no features nor hair and wearing a black suit and tie as though it were human. It was just stood there, half behind a tree a good twenty feet away from him.

Neither Pitch nor the spirit moved, rather comically Pitch raised his chin with a look of humoured disdain. Personally Pitch thought it looked hilarious; like someone wearing a white sock over their head. He knew vaguely who it was; quite a number of children had had fears of this spirit, and many adults too.

May as well greet the new fear protégé.

"Nice to see a new face around these parts. Slenderman is it?" Pitch had no need to raise his voice since the woods had fallen quiet and most beings and animals were asleep. "Curious about me were you?"

He half hoped Slenderman would rise to the 'face' pun and Pitch would get an enjoyable argument out of this but silence reigned forwards once more.

"No matter, curious or not; either way I have business to attend to," Pitch answered himself and without another word he turned dismissively and strolled into the village and scanned the street.

Immediately picking out a bungalow that had some children's toys left on the front lawn. The wind behind shifted some rubbish on the floor making Pitch glance behind him.

He turned back to the house.

"GAAH!" Pitch yelped and back pedalled a few steps away from Slender who had teleported, a few inches, in front of him without warning.

For a split second as he collected himself, Pitch felt anger at being made a fool of but it quickly gave way to a smirk as he took control of the situation back and laughed.

"I must say it's been quite some time since anyone has gotten a sound like _**that**_ out of me," he chuckled, his gold eyes bright with sly mirth.

Slender said nothing and did not move.

"This is tiresome, I know enough of you and you seen you in enough dreams to know that you never speak and you stalk children and catch, kill or whatever it is you do," Pitch waved a hand at him. "I am not human nor a child so forgive my confusion at wondering _**why**_ you are here stalking _**me**_."

Pitch posed no question, he spoke of fact.

Slenderman took a small step forward, vaguely surprising Pitch but nothing more.

"Oh so you do know how to walk by yourself, how lovely." He purred sarcastically with a sneer. "Maybe you can toddle off that way somewhere, away from me. Not that this hasn't been _**fascinating**_."

The pale spirit was then gone, teleported away and Pitch huffed at the spot where he had stood. It was strange how lonely Pitch felt sometimes only to meet someone else and be annoyed by them that he'd wish to be alone again.

The Boogeyman closed his eyes with a frown before opening them and continuing towards the bungalow where the shot of fear was needed; it didn't seem very uplifting now though.

Typical.

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